Censorship the Corollary of Corruption 3

Maidstone

The coach drove onto the ferry and it came to a halt. As it sailed across the stretch of water to reach mainland England at Portsmoth I looked back at the Isle of Wight , the prison island and hoped I would never see it again in my life. I remembered some of the guys that I had left behind the friends and enemies, the evil and the good and the innocent and the guilty. I thought of the word "guilty" and whom it meant guilty too. I knew that the verdict meant nothing to prisoners and less and less to the grass roots. I had been judged by my peers and found not to be wanting in any respect either of the fact that I was a convicted murder or a pornographer. The former was all right if you were in the right at the time you killed or whether you killed to stay alive. Prisoners had a strict moral code and it was enforced by the prisoners themselves or I should say the leaders and fighters. I had just left one hierarchy its laws enforced by violence or the banishment of segregation. A few guys like strong man Chico would survive as long as they watched their backs and kept fit because once they became vulnerable someone would kill or maim him because he had raped a number of girls and women in different countries and this was unacceptable also I had weakened his reputation as a an unbeatable fighter and when I had him at my mercy I should have by rights carried out at least the sentence and punishment of maiming but I did not and I did not even think of it but because I was a "lifer" I would not be criticised by the Chaps. A prisoner wanting to make a name for himself would get a badge of honour from the underworld if he maimed or killed Chico. Some of the prisoners in Parkhurst were professional criminals who never thought of anything else but going back to the same life as before but now they had years to plan the big one, the one that could set you up on easy street for life. There were the forgers who took a pride in their work, the bank robbers, payroll snatchers, tie up merchants all which involved gaining large sums of wealth, usually or ideally cash these guys were different from the businessman who walked out of the bank with 20K legally insofar as they they were usually uneducated guys but with plenty of initiative and courage who had decided to be career crimininals because it was the only way that they could live in the style that they wanted then there was the gangsters who were often feared because they were parasitical and violent but the majority were just recidivists who if they counted up their ill gotten gains then it would come to less than the average pay packet. The fact that I made it plain I hated gangsters endeared me to the "honest thief" but did not make me one of them, a robber or a thief, but the vast majority of prisoners and prison officers loved pornography so I was accepted by most prisoner and staff. In fact their views reflected the man in the street and most people did think pornography should be illegal but when stating this fact almost everyone qualified their views by saying something like "Except for child porn and snuff films."

I was thirty five years of age and sitting in a classroom again but this time instead of looking out of the window and day dreaming I paid attention and scribbled notes in my exercise book. The teacher was a lecturer with a couple of degrees and a full fair beard and long shoulder length hair like my own. Everyone in the class had been tranferred to Maidstone because they were gifted in some way or of high intelligence. I now had four O levels English Language, French, German and Art and now I was studying for those subjects at A level and English Law, Sociology, Latin, Accountancy, Commerce, History and Mathematics at O level. Most people were there because they wanted to learn and improve their education but others were there because they had heard that if you educated yourself and gained qualifications then you would get out on parole sooner. Maidstone Education Centre was a bizarre college full of highly intelligent convicts some whom had carried out spectacular crimes. I soon got to know most of them and what they were in for like Tony Gavin who loved Pure Maths and would sit for hours on end doing mathematical equations and who was an ex army sergeant who had carried out a military operation on the Bank of America in Mayfair. He led a team of men who maintained radio contact with lookouts outside the bank and had cut through walls of an adjoining building using thermic lances and entered the safety deposit box room and cracked open all the boxes netting millions in cash, gold, platinum, precious stones and jewellery. It was fascinating listening to Tony during coffee breaks at the college. Then as I was a pornographer he told me that in many of the boxes he had found pornography of all types. What had blown his mind was a photo of a beautiful girl who stared smiling into the camera why she defecated.

"I mean she was looking round, over her shoulder with a big smile on her face and shitting" he would say in amazement and I would laugh and tell him about a coprophiliac that I know would get his girlfriend to squat on a glass table while he lay underneath masturbating with a perfumed handerchief over his face. Tony was amazed at this kind of sexual behaviour but being a pornographer I had seen everything that was on sale in the Soho shops. Coprophilia was a rare subject with a minority appeal but it existed and Peter the only guy that I ever knew who admitted to practising it assured me that it was quite common and that Heals in the West End sold coffee tables with glass tops expecially for the devotees!

I asked Tony what he had done with all the porn that he had found in the boxes he gave a laugh and he said that they, the bank robbers, had left it all over the floor but if I knew the male and human nature I suspect that they took some for themselves. Tony was a nice guy and a family man and he always spoke of getting a move nearer home so that he could be near hs wife and family.

But not all intelligent prisoners were on education and some chose not to attend but to have other jobs like Bruce Reynolds the Great Train Robber who worked in the prison library. I was not there long when I was invited to the Chaps Club which took place every evening in Frankie Sims,the bullion robbers cell.

Bruce said to me "Do you fancy a smoke tonight?"

"I never refuse a smoke" I said but I don't smoke tobacco.

"Neither do we, we use a pipe but the golden rule of the club is never refuse a pipe! Okay?"

"I have never refused a pipe in my life if it is good hash" I answered truthfully.

"Oh this is the best straight from Amsterdam courtesy of Hennie the Dutchman."

"Yeah who is he?"I asked.

"Oh Hennie he is a great guy and used to play for Ajax of Holland. He got caught by a British destroyer in the Channel with five tons of hash on board!" Bruce laughed and his face lit up in aprroval of the Dutchman's daring and entrepreneurship.

I laughed too signifying my admiration and approval.

"Come to Frankie's peter straight after unlocking. Everyone there is one of the chaps except the guy who loads the pipe. he is just a mug, but a nice guy who loads the pipe for a free smoke."

"Okay Bruce" I will be there promised.

"Knock three times and say Mickey Muldoon and the doorman will ley you in" Bruce said a smile lighting up his handsome face and pure white teeth, his blue eyes twinkling behind his gold framed spectacles. You have not met all of the guys and one is Tony Dunford, everyone knows what he done and don't freak out because he is a nice guy.

Alarm bells were ringing now because as Bruce said Tony Dunford was a double killer whose second murder was a fellow prisoner who had called Dunford a "poof." after he had fallen in love with another prisoner and started engaging in sex with him.

I knelt on the hard floor of my cell and meditated filling up my lungs from the bottom, banishing all thought from my mind until the sound of doors unlocking for evening association, half past five until nine o' clock brought out of the trance. I stretched until a screw opened my door then loosening up I did a little bit of shadow boxing.

"Association?" the screw shouted laconically looking through the Judas Hole. He had to ask because some prisoners did not go on "association" because association was a time that the prisoners mixed freely without much supervision and when any scores were settled a time when one could be pulled into a cell and killed. "Yes please guvnor" I answered and the metal door opened with a jangle of keys and a crash and the noise of the wing, muffled by the thick walls and steel door, came into my cell, then left my cell marching along the landing, a warrior going to meet his fate. My practise of martial art and reading had made me interested in the philosophy and I was beginining to practise it. I had read about the "way of the warrior" and had begun to practise it.

I knocked on the door of the "club" and said "It's Mickey Muldoon" and a wedge was removed from with a heavy object from inside and the door opened by the doorman and pipe maker. I entered the cell .

Several cons were already in the cell with Bruce and several others that I did not know. I was on full red because several guys in a cell alone with you can easily kill you. I had been attacked by three hard men at once in prison and defeated all of them because I was a gifted fighter, who surprised himself, but I knew that I would stand very little chance against several men especially the "chaps" who were usually hard and fit men by stint of their place in the prison hierarchy in this tiny cell.

"Hello Mickey glad that you could come. Let me introduce you to the others." And Bruce gestured to a huge giant of a man whom I knew instinctively was Tony Dunford. It was common knowledge that I had photographed three girls who were below the age of consent two of fifteen and one of fourteen but this was not considered to be child porn by prisoners or most especially as the News of the World had told the story and everyone knew they were getting paid and were teenage prostutes in Soho who wore lots of make up. I knew that they were young and pictures of young girls sold like hotcakes but it would be stupid if they were under sixteen because the shops would inform the OPS. After that I had always wanted proof of age where they looked really young. I was happy that I had not transgressed the "code of honour" because I would either have had to go on protection or be ready to defend myself against attacks by prisoners who wanted to make a name for themselves all the time. This was going through my mind now as I grasped Tony Dunford's massive hand and looked him in the eyes.

"Hello Tony" I said shaking the hand of the giant and sitting down like everyone else. Sitting down brought me barely up Dunford's shoulder and his proximity made me feel so very physically smaller and weaker. I looked into his eyes and they were expressive and the paranoia that I had felt left my body and I breathed in deeply.

"Hello Mickey pleased to meet you" Tony replied

I smiled back at him then Bruce was introducing me to someone else "This is Franky Sims and this is his peter"

I extended my hand to Franky Sims and said "Hello Frank pleased to meet you." I had heard of Franky Sims and knew that he had done a big bullion robbery at London Airport.

Franky's red jolly face lit up with warmth "Please to meet you son. Seen a few of your blue films outside" he said with a laugh that shook his whole body and everyone else joined in. "Love a blue film son!

Everyone laughed again and I realised that Franky liked to make people laugh with his broad East End accent and the emphasis he put on some words and the facial expressions showed that he was a born comic.

"Here you are Michael " Bruce was saying "Have a pipe!" and the pipemaker extended a loaded hash pipe to me.

I took the pipe which was quite short with a metal top and a plastic biro tube as the stem. I did not like the plastic because of possible fumes and the pipe would be hot. It was much better to have a shorter pipe which gave the smoke a chance to cool down but the pipe was well used and coated with resin so probably safe. A lighter was placed into my hand and I applied the flame to the piece of hash lying in the small brass bowl. I exhaled until my lungs were empty, applied the flame and then inhaled, holding the flame on the piece of hash which glowed red like a small piece of coal, the brown turned to black and then to a light grey until I had inhaled every bit of smoke. I then pressed my chin down upon my upper chest, locking in the smoke,and until the THC was absorbed into my bloodstream and travelled to my CNS.

Franky started laughing and cheering clapping his hands and everyone joined in as I held in the pungent, spicy smoke then I let it out slowly through my nostrils. Smokers were brothers and the smoking of the pipe a ritual which showed if you were a man or not. If you exhibited paranoia and "cracked up" then your reputation would be in tatters and being a good smoker and holding in smoke was admired in a tribal way as was the telling of jokes and stories. "Outside" was the same and a good test of character was to smoke hash with someone or a group of people. Alcohol could be used this way too I knew but them most people could handle it unlike cannabis the effects of which terrified some.

A guy with the looks of a young Paul Newman looked at me with blue eyes sparkling and said "I'm Alan Stocker. Pleased to meet you.Call me Alan. I am doing a fourteen for bank robbery he said with pride.

I shook his hand "Hello Alan. Pleased to meet you. I am Mickey the pornographer" and my reply brought further laughter. Meanwhile the pipe was going around then another guy was shaking my hand.

I looked at a guy with black curly hair and a tanned completion whose face was creased into a broad smile showing his white teeth. "All right son? I am Frank Samways the bank robber doing a twelve. Please to meet you Mick" he said in a deep gravelly voice accentuated by his East End accent

" Yes, I am all right and pleased to meet you" I said thinking how strange it was to have all my friends as bank robbers and convicted murderers. I did not think of myself as "a murderer but a pornographer and funny I had never met another pornographer in prison" these thoughts were flashing through my mind when the pipe was being offered to me again. I took it from the pipe maker and smoked it inhaling all the smoke and wasting none. It was strong hash and I was already stoned on the second pipe. But the pipe came again and again until it seemed that the cell was a hollow rectangle flashing through space at the speed of light. I wondered if it was possible to exceed the speed of light and Einstein's theories flashed through my mind.

Suddenly there was a tapping on the door and the sound of a screw's voice Alistar the Censor who after reading one's mail delivered it to your cell personally. "Mail for Stocker and Samways. Are you in there lads?"

"Yes guv" shouted Stocker and Samways in unison and I wondered if someone was going to knock out the big wooden wedge which had a rubber base to prevent it slipping out.

"Slide them under the door guvnor" shouted Stocker through the haze of blue cannabis smoke his voice loud enough to penetrate the thick steel door and to be heard above the noise of the prison. At association times the wing was very noisy indeed with noise echoing along the "spurs." Medway House was built in a modern manner with three four storey spurs coming off a central staircase unlike the open landings of the old Victorian buildings of most prisons.

Suddenly two letters came sliding under the door and were handed to Stocker and Samways by Bruce.

The pipe was in my hands again and my head was in space and my voice seemed far away as I held up my hand as if to say that "I have had enough."

I stared at the floating faces that began to cheer and then chant "Come have another one, have another one, have another one" until I took the pipe again and carefully applied the lighter flame to the small piece of hash and smoked it, sucking in the last of the smoke then opening my mouth to inhale some cooling air which I mixed with the smoke, filling my lungs to bursting point.

Then everyone began to cheer and the pipe continued to be passed around the circle as I exhaled.

"Hear Bruce tell us why you left a sack of ten bob notes in the phone box? " Samways was asking.

Everyone looked at Bruce who was sitting cross legged on a cushion on Franky Sims bed his back against the cell wall. Bruce's face lit up into a smile as he started to speak and remember."It was for the Old Bill! I phoned him up from that box and agreed to leave the sack there. I gave him the exact location on the map of the area. It was out in the sticks see, at a cross roads without any buildings or people in sight. The stupid bastard who supposed to be a detective got lost and by the time he got there, then a member of the public, some straight goer geezer out for a walk with his dog found it and phoned the local nick. Stupid cunt" said Bruce.

Everyone laughed and Bruce said "It's not funny because we had to pay the stupid cunt again."

This brought more laughter and I became aware that I was laughing too, tears rolling down my face. My sides were aching and I laughed and laughed and laughed and could not stop despite the pain.

"If only the fucking judge could see us now" Sims shouted and we laughed even louder.

"We are having a laugh now but I would do anything to get out of this fucking place" said Samways sadly as we all looked at him and the laughter died to a few giggles.

"Any thing, even let the governor fuck you on the center with everyone watching?" Sims said bursting into deep chuckling sound that soon became a laugh in which everyone joined.

Samways did not answer then Sims said "I would crawl to the center pull down my trousers and grease my own arse to go home."

"I don't believe that Frank" came Dunford's voice quietly.

I remembered then that Tony was homosexual but then I saw that he was smiling.

"What about you then Mick. What if they said that you would have to be a lavatory attendant for the rest of your natural?" said Bruce Reynolds laughing.

"No way! I exclaimed. There is no way that I would do the job. I would rather stay in prison."

"Do you mean to say that if they said that you could go out tomorrow and be a lavatory attendant you wouldn't take it?" interjected Samways.

"No, I am certain that I would not take it" I answered seriously and adding that "I would not even consider it."

Tony Dunford said "You would not be pushed from the top down to the bottom of the social scale in a class society because it would make you feel inferior. Pornographers are artists whose work is considered controversial by an authoritarian state and considered to be in socio economic group one."

I looked at Tony who with his big full beard and middle class accent and vocabulary was like some huge professor and realised that he was expecting me to comment.

"Yes that's it Tony I am an artist and I enjoy my work" I replied.

"And you enjoy all the money too" commented Stocker while smiling in a friendly way.

"The money is nice but I would do it anyway just for the pleasure" I answered.

"Yeah and all the cunt" Sims said laughing loudly and this set everybody off again.

Suddenly someone downstairs was ringing a bell and a screw was shouting "All away everybody, don't forget your water and back to your cells."

"That's it" said Franky Sims. " All out. see you tomorrow night."

I got to my feet and then the wedge was being banged out of the door by the pipemaker and the door opened letting out the hash fumes and letting in the noise and brightness of the outside spurs that were full of prisoners making their way to their cells to be locked up for the night. I heard someone ask another prisoner "Got any porn?"

I walked along the spur until I came to my own cell and going inside I banged the door.

I lay down in my celibate bed and started to think about the Sixties, the time of rock n roll, and the sexual revolution. Girls had started to wear the mini skirt and then as they discovered the power that they had over the male of the species they started to flash. Knickers became a common sight and some girls still wore suspenders and stockings, On a hot summers day, a stroll around the West End would result in a semi erection with the end of my cock getting wet. The atmosphere was sexual and now young girls were available and letting you fuck them whereas in the Fifties you had to put an engagement ring on a girls finger before you could play with her tits or feel har cunt. Some where said to be on the pill and they would let you come up them.

The phone was ringing it was Fat Bill's voice "Mickey there are three young chicks walking around Soho and Leicester Square, Picadilly and they are on the game. They sit around Eros opening and closing their legs" Fat Bill's breathing was heavy and an image of his shiny fat face with his little black eyes, reduced to currant size by his glasses flashed through my mind.

"On the game! How much are they charging" I laughed over the phone.

"Two quid you can have two at once for a fiver and they put on lesbian shows as well" puffed Bill with excitement in his voice.

I felt my penis stirring at the images Bill was created in my mind "Fucking hell Bill I ought to smudge them up" I said getting excited myself.

"You would earn a fortune Mickey they are beautiful"

"Okay Bill I'll be over" I said putting down the phone.

Tony sat beside me in the car as we drove into Picadilly Circus and around Eros I saw them as soon as I looked underneath the statue, three of them wearing skin tight jeans. "Fucking hell its them Tone" I said to Tony.

"Fucking hell you are right Mickey. Wow they are fucking lovely" enthused Tony as I drove up Shaftesbury Avenue towards the car park in Denman Street.

Tony was a handsome young guy of twenty with blonde wavy hair and blue eyes with the fashionable skinny physique of a rock n roll singer and at five eight, he could pull and had fucked most of the girls that I knew and had numerous one night stands. "Tony go down and chat to them , ask them if they want to pose" I said.

Tony gave me a big smile and was off down to Picadilly Circus. I got out of the car leaving the keys in and the motor running for the attendant to park and as he walked towards me I shouted "Might be only a short stay" and I followed Tony walking briskly down to Eros. As Cupid got nearer I saw Tony sitting next to the three girls and chatting intimately with them. I vaulted over the railings and walked towards Tony and the girls and as I grew nearer I saw that they were very pretty. Two of them had long brunette hair down past their shoulders, one absolutely straight and fine the other curly and thick then there was another with short wavy hair. They all wore tight jeans flared at the bottoms and shrunk tight around their buttocks and crotches and I wondered where the mini skirts were that I had assumed that they were wearing when Bill told me that they were flashing, I could not really use jeans in the photos.

I walked around Eros and lounged back against the railing opposite while the roar of the London traffic full of black taxis and red buses filled the air and Tony seeing me got up and walked over to me smiling broadly and I knew that had agreed to pose.

"Yeah they are fucking little ravers, the two girls with long hair Lorna and Sharon are seventeen and Trish is sixteen. I said that you would give them five for lesbian photos and ten for fucking." Tony said looking at the girls and nodding.

We walked back over to the girls and I said "Please to meet you girls. I am Mick the photographer. Tony tells me that you would like to pose? Let me say you would make lovely models you are so pretty and sexy."

"Yes" they all said eagerly and Sharon added "Thank you."

I turned to Tony and said "Let's all walk up to the carpark. I'll go first and get the motor, wait for me on the corner of Denman Street, all right?"

I hurried up to the carpark and pressing a fiver into the attendant's hand I got into gold Jaguar and drove out as he had left it near to the exit. I drove out and pulled up by the girl's and Tony on the cormer and we drove off. I looked in the back where the three girls sat and started to form an idea for a set of hot pictures. Schoolgirls had started to shorten their uniform skirts and were flashing on the London Sixties streets and were getting open attention from boys and men. I pulled up outside of Woolworths.

"What we come here for? Trish asked.

"We have come here to buy you some school uniforms with little short skirts and ties and blouses. Tony take the girls and buy them a uniform each and get those really short tennis skirts that they are all wearing.

"The girls all started tittering as they followed Tony out of the car. I got out and went to a red phone box and dialled the number of Kim's studio.

"Hello Kim's Studios" came a voice.

"Look its Mickey Muldoon I would like to book the studio for this evening."

"Okay Mickey, I will get it ready for you.

I adjusted the Umbrellas of the Bowens set up and picking up a polaroid I pointed it at the girls who were changing into the school uniforms and took a test shot and everyone looked over at me as the flashes went off.

"Do we have to wear these virgin socks and white cotton knickers?" asked Trish turning up her nose. "I hate them!"

"Yes or teacher will punish you" I joked and this brought some more giggles from Sharon and Lorna.

I looked at the polaroid and it was fine so I plugged my Rolleiflex into the sync cable and looked down into the ground glass screen. The girls looked like the new sexy Sixties school girls that everyone in authority were trying to control but could not. Tony put his arms around Sharon and started to kiss her then put his hand inside he blouse as he did so Trish and Lorna looked at each other and giggled. Tony's hand was now up Sharon's short skirt his hand inside her knickers. I started to take shots when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Tony stopped fingering Sharon and said" That must be Danny.

I heard the downstairs door open and Kim's voice saying "Come on in" and feet coming up the stairs then knocking on the door. There was a red light outside the door saying "Studio in Use."

"Come in" I shouted and Danny a good looking guy, a friend of Tony's who had modelled for me before entered. "Hell Danny" I said. Everyone had stopped and were looking at Danny and I.

"Tony, girls don't stop. I am getting some good shots. Just carry on and Danny will be joining you."

Danny just smiled and took off his trousers and pants revealing a penis that was already swelling to erction in antipation and looking through the viewfinder I captured the girl's faces as they all stared at Danny's big cock. Then Sharon sank to her knees then smiling at me she put Danny's big cock into her mouth and began to suck it. Kim seeing this and Tony standing above her with his cock out masturbating squatted down to suck Tony's cock.

Trish was just sitting down watching and I said "Come on Trish join in the fun, play with Sharon's cunt while she is doing that. Trish got down and without further prompting started to finger then to suck the other girl cunts. My cock got really hard and I knew that I was getting some horny shots. Then both Tony and danny fucked the girls while Trish knelt down and pulled open their hairy cunts so that one could see the the boys cocks going in and out and the wetness of their juices that revealed their excitement.

Tony was gasping "I am going to come."

"Well pull it out and shoot it all over her" I said as I liked to see spunk in a picture because it was erotic to look at and and a symbol of orgasm.

Tony pulled out and standing up quickly said. "Sharon hold your tits up" and then he shot several sparays of hot, white spunk all over her tits. I pressed the shutter three times and captured it on camera. Then Danny said "Fucking hell that made me come too and he pulled out quickly and shot all over Lorna's belly and thighs.

Trish made an "Urrg" sound and turned up her nose as she held Danny's cock hot wet and glistening with Lorna's juices as it pulsed and pumped out lots of spunk that shot all over her friend. "Urrgh dirty boy" she said giggling.

I stood up saying "Great okay that's it thanks everone" and I pulled out a roll of notes and started to count them out on a table. Suddenly I heard a grunting sound and their was Tony fucking Trish on the floor. She had her legs wrapped around his back and was making little moaning noises as Tony fucked her like a rabbit his little white buttocks moving rapidly betreen Trish's thighs/

"Fucking hell. You should have done that on film" I remarked to the copulating couple.

Driving them back to Picaddilly Sharon suddenly remarked "We know a young guy with a really big cock. We met him in the Two Eyes Coffeee bar and he is a singer" then the threes girls started laughing. "It is really huge" Sharon added. Then they all broke into laughter.

January 10, 2008

The girls had their handbags open and looking at themselves in the mirrors as they painted their faces, "All girls are artistic because they paint their faces" someone had said and I studied their faces in the rear view mirror. Their mouths were stained bright red and imitated lips engorged by the blood of the sexually excited then the eyes enlarged as all of them applied thick black mascara along the top of their eyelids and eyelashes and the eyelashes.

"I will come over and see you Wednesday I said at about three o'clock in the afternoon" I said looking in the rear view mirror at the girls . And bring the guy with the huge cock."

"He is my boyfriend"

"Oh it is huge" exclaimed Sharon giggling.

"Really huge" giggled Lorna.

The girls were still gigggling when they got out the Jag at at Picadilly Circus. The place was a riot of flashing lights and lots of young people were sitting around Eros many of the girls wearing the new mini skirts that was evidence of the Sixties Revolution an"d its slogan "Make love not war" and my eyes drank in the eyefood of feminine sexual attraction and flesh. I noticed lots of males circling around Eros hunting for sex.

" Let's drive over to White's place in Nottinghill." He said that we could use it anytime" Tony said.

"Okay I don't want to go home yet and we could get the location fixed for Wednesday I replied and I drove down Oxford Street to Marble Arch then down Bayswater Road. "Let me know when you see the turning" I said to Tony.

We passed two business girls dressed in really short skirts and high heels, their suspenders showing below their skirts."Wow, smashing, fucking hell, did you see those two tarts. dirty bitches getting fucked for money all the time" exclaimed Tony turning to stare back.

"Tony watch out for the turning. Yes I saw them and those fucking suspenders are sexy" I enthused.

"Yeah, that is what I should be doing, a gigilo getting paid to fuck women all the time" Tony said looking out of the car.

"Well you do get paid to fuck women on camera" I said.

"Yeah but not all the time, every day I mean like, and different ones. You know what I mean" Tony enthused.

"What about the ugly old birds of Sixty?" I laughed as I visualised Tony fucking an old woman.

"I'd fuck her for the money" Tony said laughing.

"Well I would not mind if she was like Marlene Dietrich" I observed.

"It is the next turning on the right" Tony said. "Yes, there is Queensway tube station, past that, then do a right."

We pulled up outside a big white terraced house and Tony said "Yes this is it. It's down the basement" and crossing the pavement he opened an ornamental iron gate that shone with fresh black paint in the street lights and we walked down the iron work stairs to the basement flat.

Tony rang the bell and I heard the sound of someone coming to the door and then it opened to reveal a guy of about thirty. "Hello Tony come in" and looking at me "and bring in your friend too" and as soon as he spoke I could tell that he was queer. Chris the radio 1 disc jockey had given me Brian White's address and Tony had been over to see him. By the way Brian was talking to Tony they already knew each other well.Tony had plonked himself down on a big luxurious setee and I sat down in an armchair. I could smell the ground coffe that Brian was making in the kitchen, the flat was warm and luxurious.

"Well darling aren't you going to introduce me to your friend Michael that you have told me so much about" Brian said smiling at me.

"Mickey this is Brian, Brian this is Mickey" Tony said.

Brian said "I am pleased to meet you. I am making some fresh coffee would you like some? I know Tony does."

"Yes it smells delicious" I remarked and Brian got up and went into the kitchen. I looked around at the filled bookshelves, the expensive antique fittings, furniture and the original framed paintings and drawings that adorned the walls of Brian's flat.

"How many times you been over here then Tone?" I questioned Tony.

" A few times Tony said looking at me with a wide eyed innocent look on his face.

Brian returned carrying a tray with three cofee cups and little jugs of cream, milk and a bowl of sugar and a filter cofee pot. He picked up the pot "Black or white with cream or milk Michael I know Tony likes cream and sugar" said Brian tossing his head back his words slightly affected with a camp intonation.

I knew hat he was signalling to me that Tony had been over here a lot and I said "I'll have cream and sugar too."

"One or two sugars?" Brian said sitting forward in a feminine way and making my coffee.

"Cream and one sugar" I replied

He then got up and put it down next to me on a little table that was next to my armchair and placed it carefully down on a coffee mat. I drank the coffee quite quickly and put down my cup.

"Would you like some more?" Brian asked.

"No thanks but it was nice" I replied.

"Blue Mountain Jamaica. Would you like some water, or perhaps a drop of Napoleon Brandy? Brian asked.

"Well I certainly would like to taste the brandy" I replied.

Brian took an enormous brandy glass out of wooden and glass antique cabinet and a bottle of Napoleon Brandy and poured some into the glass, handing it to me.

I sat sipping the branding while Brian put the Stones Their Satanic Majesties on the record player. I felt like a smoke and brought out my pipe and a piece of hash. "Do you mind if I smoke this?" I asked Brian.

He looked over and laughed "No darling as long as you don't burn any holes in my furniture or carpets. I will get you an ash tray."

I sat there smoking the pipe and the music sounded different now that I was getting stoned and the beat was going right through my body.

Tony was just sitting there not saying anything unlike his garrulous self.

Brian said "Mick has got so thick lips hasn't he? Mick Jagger, I mean."

"Yeah and skinny like Tony" I said in a slightly envious way. Then adding "He gets all the girls like Tony too." I was thinking that "a lot of girls were scared of me because of all my muscles whereas Tony was not seen as threatening. None of the three girls had showed out to me but they were all over Tony. I had not fucked any of them, but that might have been because of being on the game and letting anyone fuck them for money. I had heard that a lot of people were getting gonorrhea."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Brian was saying.

I looked down at the pipe that was still smoking in my hands. "Oh I was thinking about Jagger and how skinny he is but he still gets lots of girls."

"Well I like big sexy,hunky men myself" exclaimed Brian fluttering his eyelashes at me and giggling.

I knew that he fancied me and I just tried to look cool about it while Brian stared at me looling for some response.

"What about being sucked off. Queers really like to suck big cocks" Brian said "Oh come on just a suck. I wont do anything else"

I looked up at him and over at Tony and he smiled back as though he had had experienced this scene before.

"I'll turn the lights out" Brian said and taking my stoned silence as assent he turned off the light.

It was absolutely pitch black in the room and I sat there not moving, then fingers undid my flies and a hand reached inside my trousers and pulled out my cock, soft hot lips around my cock and I became hard. All I could hear were the loud, dirty sucking noises and feel the mouth of an expert fellator around my cock and suddenly I was coming and with a groan I ejaculated into a mouth greedy for semen that drank every drop.

Driving home to South London Tony in the passenger seat beside me I said "I bet that you get sucked off all the time?"

Tony looked at me and gave a coy little smile and I was aware suddenly of his androgyny "He has got a cock himself and that is why he can make you come." Tony lay back in the red leather seats and closed his eyes. "I wish Pauline could suck like that!" he remarked and giggled to himself.

Then I wondered just who had been sucking my cock when the light was off. I remember when I had stayed at Tony's flat and Pauline his nineteen year old wife had come into my room wearing a baby doll nightdress, high heels and a little pair of see through knickers that she undid at the side and bending down giving me a long French kiss, sat on me and guided my hard cock into her wetness, riding me until I came. Then after she returned straight to her and Tony's bedroom and I heard Tony groaning in orgasm. Pauline had said to me "Tony is a pervert! He loves sucking me out after I have been fucked." At the time I thought that she was just being a bitch and joking. I wonder what Sandra would say if she found out that I had been sucked off by a man.

Tony was picking up the girls in his car and the shoot was on with their boyfriend at Brian's flat. I had expected Brian to be out but he was still there. There was also a young guy with long blonde hair looling at me an angry expression on his face.

"Can you tell this queer cunt to stop chasing me around and trying to touch my cock!" he blurted out.

I looked at Brian and could hear the three girls laughing and chatting in the bedroom and just smiled at him "Don't be naughty Brian!"

"I can't perform if he is around I'm telling you now. I didn't come down here for nothing. I came to pose for you" the young guy complained buttoning up his trousers.

I realised that he had been warming up with the girls so to speak.

"I'll make myself scarce then I promise" said Brian and went out of the room.

I turned to the guy and said his gone now let' go into the bedroom with the girls. " I'm Mick the photoagraper, what's your name?"

"Jeff " the skinny guy replied.

"What do you do" I asked I heard that you are a singer.

"Yeah man I sing and play the guitar"

"Okay Jeff I said walking into the bedroom "I'll try to get Chris to play your record. The the girls were putting on their make up. All the them were dressed in short mini skirts and high heels, stockings and suspenders. I thought great "Just like the girls on the street. I would use the clothes that they wore for this shoot. I noticed a pair of little black knickers on the bed and pointing at them I said Whose are those?"

"Mine" said Sharon with a shy smile.

"Well put them back on because I like them on at first" I ordered.

Sharon picked up the little black knickers and wriggled into them smiling at me as she did so and I immediately felt my penis responding at the sight.

I picked up my camera and said "Jeff, you lay on the bed in the middle. Now you girls all kneel round on the bed and look at his cock."

Jeff took off his trousers and pants to reveal an enormous semi erect penis that seemed to reach almost to his knees and was accentuated by his almost emaciated body and positioned himself on the bed between the girls. Sharon got hold of Jeff's enormous cock and shook it and it immediately became hard and all the girls looked at it and started to giggle. I started to press the camera shutter. "Now show me your tits and let those skirts ride up. that's it. Now start to pull the knickers off slowly, not right off Trish put yours back on. I have never seen girls who want to get their knickers off so quickly" I joked which brought a laugh from the girls but Jeff looked serious as the girls played with his cock. I thought that it was the biggest that I had ever seen. "Now Lorna and Sharon put both your lips and tongues round his cock and suck it while you Trish take off their knickers and play with their pussies" and each time a new picture was posed I pressed the shutter the Mecablitz freezing any movement without blurring the image. Sharon and Lorna rode the big cock while Trish pulled open the girls cunts and buttocks.

"I can't hold off much longer man" Jeff suddenly exclaimed.

"Stand up and shoot it all over them. Girls lick it all up and as Jeff stood up he started to come with the Sharon and Lorna licking at the shower of creamy spunk as though it was ice cream and smiling broadly pleased that they had made this happen. Trish just knelt there so I gave her a playful slap across her bare buttocks/

"Don't touch me" she said sulkily I'm a lesbian."

I was walking through the streets of Soho and the brown envelopes I kept stuffing in the poacher's pockets of my Macintosh were bulging. Everone was order the photos and the orders were twice as large as usual. I was rich and the photos of the girls were selling like the proverbial hotcakes.

A beel was ringing bringing me out of my dream and I opened my eyes and I was back in my narrow iron bed looking at the iron bars on the windows.

I walked into the classroom and the guy known as Tabby, because he gave away free acid tabs nodded to me and said "Do you want a cup of coffee Muldoon?"

"Yes I will have one, no sugar please" Tabby placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of me.

"Thanks a lot. The teacher whose name I did not know yet walked into the classroom. He had told us his first name but I had forgotten. The class coming up was O level English Law and he seemed to teach everything the "hippie looking teacher seemed to teach everything" I thought because his last class was O level Commerce. I listened attentively and started to take notes in my pad.He was writing on the board now "Obiter Dicta : Words by the way" and the messages "Obita means words, Dicta, have been spoken came into my mind. Suddenly the smell of tobacco smoke assailed my nostrils and I wanted to get away from the acrid smell. I got up and saw tobacco smoke drifting from the four seats at the back of the classroom. I thought that we ought to have a no smoking rule in class but when I suggested it before the tobacco smokers said that I was a hypocrite because I smoked hash in a pipe so everyone knew that I hated the smell of tobacco. My stomach gave a heave and I felt sick and as turned to the teacher and said "Excuse me" then walked out of the classroom I heard someone sniggering. I walked up the stairs to the toilet and went inside and vomited into the toilet bowl until my stomach felt empty and "poison" went through my mind, then my bowls felt loose and I sat down on the bare porcelain bowl and emptied my bowels : ACID went through my brain. I got up and looked into the mirror and saw my face loking back and it was covered in beads of perspiration that slid down my face and sparkled like jewels. "Yes you are tripping" I said to the image "Never look in a mirror when you are tripping" someone had said and I realised that this was the first time that I had looked into a mirror on a trip except for the time I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window in Leicester Square and saw that I was Jesus Christ. "Wow this is strong acid! Must be 3 or 400 micrograms!" Now that I realised that it was not poison but acid the paranoia left me and started to smile at myself in the mirror. I turned on the taps and as the water gushed out I washed my face and felt on top of the world. "The observer is part of the observation. What I am seeing is created partially by myself" passed through my mind again and I started to walk down the stairs back down to the classroom and by the time I had reached the bottom Act Normal flashed through my brain. I entered the classroom and walked to my table and sat down and picking up the coffee I drank down the half a cup that remained knowing that I had definitly ingested in excess of the 400 mics needed to go on a full trip and I into the surprised signals of the spikers and picking up my ball point pen I began to take notes again. As we left the classroom I acted one hundred per cent straight ignoring the distorted features of the spiker as he beamed in on my features for a close up.

"Yes they can't tell" I thought as I walked into the dining hall and joined the queue of cons lining up for tea, the evening meal. I remembered the time when my Mum and Dad used to say "Tea is ready" and I used to ask "Is the tea ready?" before I got rich and wanted to speak like a posh educated person and then I started to call "tea" "dinner." I remembered serving the food down the island as I held out my tray and fish, mashed potatoes, peas and a white parsely sauce was ladeled, hot and steaming into the compartments of my tray an a piece of spotted dog was put into the sweet compartment and hot yellow custard was poured over it. I walked over to my table feeling good and put my tray opposite Alan and sat down.

"All right son" Alan said looking up with his Paul Newman face.

"Yes I am all right. How are you?" I replied then I started to eat my food.

I glanced around and got the idea that Samways and another con were studying me so I nodded, smiled then went back to my dinner. I relised that Shakespeare was right we are all acting out our parts of the stage of the world. "Normal is just another act" the Eureka concept flashed onthe screen of my mind.

Alan had finished his dinner "Fucking shit! I'll see you down Frankys after unlock OK?" he said.

He said and his words rang through my brain over and over echoing back to me. I got up went to the pig bin and shovelled the remains of my dinner into the bin then walking past a sea of distorted faces I walked back up to my cell and going in I banged the door. I was safe in here like being locked inside your own little vault and I had read somewhere that a millionare had built a cell inside his own house so that he could lock himself up if any dangerous people broke into his home but there was only one difference he had the key. I sat down on the bed and then I heard the Judas Hole slide open and an eye looking through.

"Fucking hell! Locked yourself up you are getting institutionalised " he laughed his words muffled by the thick steel door.

I looked at the eye and it became a long way away like down the end of a tunnel" I wanted to do a bit of writing" I said down the tunnel. I turned and picked up an exercise book and a ball point pen.

"Okay man cool" came the sound of Stocker's audio mixed with the ticking sound of the little piece of round metal, the cover over the spyhole that was swinging backwards and forwards as it reached equilibrium. I was alone now in the cell I got up and started to look at my paintings on the wall of the cell. The frames were space warping like receiving dishes and as I looked at the paintings I saw broadcasts on screens within images some of them very realistic. I picked up a brush and pallette and squeezed some raw umber onto the brush and developed the images which got stronger as if they were in a tray of developer.

A screw came around banging up the doors and as he passed my cell he uttered "Painting again" he uttered in passing on to the next cell. The screw was shouting "All away now. I have got to get home and get my dinner too!" and slowly he banged them all away and the chattering and calling subsided into the muffled sound of radios playing. I switched on my Roberts radio and Jimi Hendrix came on playing All Along the Water Front and I saw musical notes starting to float through the air and the bulb in the cell began pulsating to the beat. I was on my feet grooving, my whole body lifting and floating in the ecstasy of the music then as the piece ended the sound of Cream playing I'm on the Road Again . Someone had my LP collection and they were playing all my favourites. Now it was Velvet Underground. "Wow this acid is strong" went through my mind and I looked at the clock and it suddenly it moved an hour forward and the screw was unlocking for association.

I walked down to Franky's cell and knocked on the door and all these faces looked up at me a couple of new guys that I had not seen last night.

One one of them was shaking my hand "I am Hennie" he was saying in a Dutch accent.

"All is goed" I heard the words come from my mouth.

"Ja all is goed" smiled the beaming mustachioed face.

"Come on talk the Queens English" boomed Sims

I could not remember what I was going to say then in Dutch then the other guy who was full bearded with shoulder length hair said "I am Jimmy Tuttle. Twelve for jugs."

"Pleased to meet you Jimmy I said then a pipe was put into my hands and sitting down on the bed next to Sims and Hennie I began to smoke it. I was all ready on a big acid trip that was getting stronger and now oozing through my body. I felt it go right down to my toes amd I flexed them feeling pleasure as the acid coursed through my pipes. The smoke tasted punguent and peppery and I felt stoned on hash immediated at the first inhalation.

Bruce was speaking . "Who is going to start off the discussion tonight."

"Lets talk about birds we have fucked "Franky said loudly adding a big belly chuckle.

"Or cunts we have sucked" said someone"

"How about blow jobs received"

"Or arrises we have done"

"Or if our eyes are not two mirrors reflecting the world but are receiving as two inverted pictures of different focal lengths on the retinas that are hard wired to the visual cortex, reality as we see it is inside our heads and created by ourselves so what is the nature of the Truth" I heard my voice saying. Everyone was laughing and the visuals morphed into a swirl of flesh and features.

"I think that is an original philosophical observation Michael but the Truth is what you believe it to be" said Tony.

"The truth is what you know to be true, what you have seen to be true" Bruce said looking intently through his gold rim spectacles.

"No the truth is what you believe to be true. Supposing you look out of the window and see water droplets falling in a shower what do you believe is happening?" asked Dunford

"Its raining" Bruce said his face breaking into a smile.

"But perhaps someone is standing on the roof with a shower hose?"

"Yes one can create images that trick people into believing something is happening when it is not" I said.

"Oh fuck all this bollox" said Frank can't we discuss who has ever sucked a cock."

I was immediately aware of Dunford because he was openly homosexual and I looked at him and as I did so he looked at me and looking at his face I could experience his emotions and no words were necessary. He accepted the way certain people accepted him and his sexual orientation.

"I will tell you when I sucked a cock if somone goes first" I said an idea of great amusement made me smile as I had a flashback of myself in a cell, my feet under a table auto fellating.

Frank looked at me a smile on his face. It was a Lucy who had tits and all that. I mean she was fucking lovely, like a beatiful woman, anyway I had done a bit of bird and I was wanking myself silly when I met this Lucy. She came to my peter and and I started kissing her and feeling her tits, anyway we ended up in bed and she went down on me and I do love to suck a cunt so I forgot, you know stuck my head between Lucy's legs and began licking and sucking and it was a cock!"

Bruce said "And how long was you sucking for you dirty cunt. Next you will be telling us you thought that she had a big clitoris."Then he started to laugh and everyone else joned in a the pipe kept going round.

I realised that everyone was looking at me waiting to hear how I had sucked a cock. "Well I had done a bit of porridge and I was wanking every night after lights out, so I was looking down at my big dick and the way it reached my belly button when I thought of sucking myself off..."

There was a cacophony of shouts, whoops then cackles of laughter as I looked at Frank who realised my trick with a smirk on my face.

"You mean you sucked your own dick?" Alan said with a laugh.

"Yeah it is like a baby's arm"

"He had no toys when he was a kid"

"His mum used to pull him out of the cradle with it and eveyone was in fits of stoned laughter tears rolling down their faces.

"It is your genes Michael "Tony said you were meant to breed. Look I will give you a book to read that will interest you."

Bruce was giggling and trying to say something "Tell us about how....." then he burst into laughter unable to finish the sentence.

"Can I have a tissue Frank? I asked Sims.

"Yes take one out of the box" Frank said

I took one from the box and wiped a tear of laughter from my eyes.

Bruce was trying to speak "You had your feet under the table? And then you sucked ....." Bruce managed to gasp before cracking up into laughter again.

"I put my feet under the table and pressed my head between my legs and after a while I was able to suck myself off. Then the fucking screw turned on the light" I said remembering the embarrasment.

Everyone was laughing out loud now when the bell to bang up was rung "All away association over" called the screw."

We all started to get to our feet and I said "I went to have a piss the next morning and was shocked to find little spots all over my helmet until I realised that they were teeth marks that I had made the night before trying to reach my dick and keep it in my mouth." As I got out the sentence Bruce clloapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles which he could stop.

"Come on let's get this wedge out" Sims was saying "the screws are coming round" and he banged it out with a lump of lead that he used to shine his floor with a cloth wrapped around it. The door opened and the noise from the wing and the yellow spur lights flooded into the cell.

I wiped the tears of laughter as went out of the door and pulled my features back into a calm and controlled look.

Dunford was talking to me "Michael I will give you that book" and he went into his cell, came out and gave it to me.

"Thanks Tony" I said feeling vulnerable in the proximity of the giant who was smiling at me in a friendly way. He looked absolutely massive as I looked back and gave him a smile of thanks as he was stooping down to enter his cell.

I banged up the door and the trip really hit me and I looked at the book that Tony had given me The Superman by Nietsche it said and I opened the first page and began to read about the "Ubermensch" however I started to look at a picture of Nietsche, a photograph in the forward. His moustache was enormous and the I read that he may have died a virgin, then the words on the page dissolved into images of naked women who sang to me as I undressed and got into bed. It was just gone nine and cell doors were still banging the bangs became louder and louder as I hid terrified under the bedclothes until I was nearly swept onto the floor of my cell by a nuclear explosion. I saw the big mushroom cloud arise felt the terrible heat as the thermo nuclear wave flashed over turning the sky black then my body was vibrating , levitatingin the beam of white light that shone through the wall of the cell and I went up feet first through the wall escaping into the brightness of the white light.

I was walking through the warm water towards the lights of the village and people were dancing, sitting around a campfire. I walked into the middle and gave the fish that I was carrying to a woman who cooking over an open fire then I wandered onto the dance circle loosened my string and began to dance. Females stood around and watched and as I danced and exhibited my body I invited their glances and each time that I swirled my penis and testicles swung between my legs slapping against my thighs. I looked at girl that had just come from the children's village and who had just come to live among the tribe again showed me her breasts and vagina. I knew that she wanted to be with child again.

I went into her hut which was beautifully decorated and draped with coloured cloth. Candles flickered and incense filled the air as she knelt beside me and began to caress me. I closed my eyes and my head was filled with a soft pattern of pastel colours as her lips worshipped my phallus before guiding it inside the warm wetness of her vagina. She was on top of me and I could feel her warm body moving against me in a rhythmic movement that was in time with the drums I could hear from the dance outside. Her cunt tightened around my now massively engorged cock and milked out every drop of my seed as the world exploded into a thousand flashing lights and colours.

"When you go to the Roundhouse today there is a geezer named Phil and he will give you some hash to give to me. He is an old pal of mine and he sent a message over to say that he has got it for me. He will come into the artroom and give it to you" said Alan

"Okay Alan" I said knowing that the Roundhouse meant the college because of its unique architecture that was round instead of square. I was reading of Gropius and the Bauhaus at the time and I it flashed through my mind. The acid from the day before was still in my body. I had read a bit of Nietsche on the trip and the fact that the Nazi philosophers had used his philosophy of the Ubermensch to justify National Socialism in Germany, this was going through my mind as I walked through the passageway from Medway Wing to the Roundhouse. Then I saw Tabby standing his back to the wall and as I walked past he extended his hand and in it were seveal small pink tablets which I knew were Strawberry Fields. I shook my head and walked straight past because I was just coming down from a trip and I knew that you could only have a full trip every twenty eight days as the lysergic acid was a key that released all the serotonin in your brain. Tripping every full moon was perfect.

I sat in the classroom drinking a cup of coffee thoughtfully provided by Tabby but which this time did not contain any free acid and when he left the room I followed him to the toilet upstairs. When I entered he was in a cubicle a tell tale plume of blue cannabis smoke drifting out of the top.

I knocked on door with my knuckles "It is Muldoon, let me in." I said "

His frightened face appeared at the open door and I went inside with him. "Want a pipe?" he offered as he offered a little pipe made of a biro tube screwed into a brass pipe bowl. I knew that he had put acid in my coffee but said nothing but took the pipe he was offering to me.

He held the lighter to the hash as I inhaled deeply.

"Where do the tabs come from I said looking forcibly down on him as he sat poised on top of the waist height cistern.

"Sussex University he answered then went on "It's an experiment, something to do with intelligence. They have got all these criminal masterminds as guinea pigs."

"Who has?" I questioned Tabby.

"I think that it is something to do with the Americans who can't experiment in the States anymore and they came over to England."

I looked at him in amazement "Wow! That's heavy man" I exclaimed

He wanted to talk about it and went on "Look man I would not give you any shit. It is pure lysergic acid made by Sandoz you might as well enjoy it."

"How do you know all this I said.

"Mike I just happened to hear some people talking in the pub around here they were professors from the University at Sussex"

I was really interested in what Tabby had to say about experiments on prisoners especially about the Americans, probably the CIA were involved. We smoke together several times in the toilet sometimes in the evening it was warm now and we had the window open.

"Look you can see through the toilet windows there is the courts over there" Tabby said passing a loaded pipe to me.

I looked out of the window an could see a woman changing her clothes in the women's toilets "What is that, the court?" I asked.

"Yes Maidstone Crown Court, it is a joke, they can't see out but we can see in! I wonder who did the glazing?"

I stared at the young woman taking all her clothes off and putting on new ones. Perhaps she was going out as it was Friday afternoon. She was pulling up her knickers now, little black panties, wriggling to get into them and I felt my cock responding and knew that if Tabby was not in the cubicle with me then I would be wanking.

"So tell me more about the professors and what you overheard" I asked Tabby while I watched the woman opposite putting on high heel shoes. Then pulling up her skirt and looking down at herself, turning round inspecting the back. It was a little show especially for me.

"They kept talking about MK ULTRA and how the American guy running the experiment was a fucking madman. Anyway I got talking to them and when they got pissed they started to talk about the guy running the intelligence experiments. Evidently he had given kids and babies hallucinogenics I thought of all the lovely free drugs I could have and after a while they started to give me hallucinogenics, mainly LSD."

"Do you get flashbacks?" I asked Tabby.

"That's just propanganda man. I see visions and have total recall, you gain these powers by learning the knowledge contained in all the sacred plants. They call them flashbacks like they are brain damage" Tabby said calmly as if it was a matter of fact.

He was the typical Hippy and his prison jeans had been altered and flared. He wore a silver bracelet that ended with two balls leaving a small gap that exposed an inch of one's inner wrist, his long hair tied in a pony tail with a big beard and moustache. "Terry Matthews is the guinea pig today."

"What you mean Matthews was tabbed up with acid?" I asked realising that I had been the last guinea pig.

"Yeah we got to find out whether he can master the trip" he giggled

"Yes you have to discover what happens to different personalities when under the influence of LSD it having been administered surreptitiously" I said encouraging him.

"They the Americans think they can implant orders in a persons brain that they can activate at any time but I think that if everyone took acid on the full moon they would see the truth about the world they have created with half the world starving the other half getting fat. Yeah and the fucking wars man. Veitnam killing the indigenous population, Napalm look this Yank was out there spraying American troops with acid and broadcasting latent suggestions to them mixed in with pop music. He had helicopters flying over the battlefield man, spraying troops in combat.

"What happened then?" I asked wanting to know more.

"That is when the fragging started" Tabby looked at be wondering if I knew what "fragging" meant which I did not.

I just nodded and he went on "An NCO used to get a grenade go to the officers tent at night and throw in a grenade. It got so bad that it was because the deaths of young officers from West Point were so high that the intelligence services were put onto it. What it was, was when an officer emerged from West Point he wanted to prove himself a hero on the battlefield so that he would be admired back home."

While Tabby talked another girl came into one of the women's toilets and began changing her clothes. "I have my own private strip show here" I thought as I also took in what Tabby was saying.

"Anywaythe effect that the acid had on the troops was that they started to see that they were bein used as cannon fodder by people that they hated. They found Marijuana grew wild and started smoking every evening around the campfire and they started to avoid killing Vietnamese and instead fraternised with them. They would not just murder a new officer in cold blood they would try to educate him but if he insisted on on killing the Vietcong then he was fragged.

"I bet the CIA did not like that" I said.

"You say CIA but they just set up private companies and do straight business and you would not know unless the agent chose to tell you. They own TV stations and airlines. Most of them are ultra patriots who will do anything that they are ordered to do by the state. One came down to the pub a few times. He always used to get pissed and that talking."

"What are you in for?" I asked.

"Got an eight for dealing, really it was a fucking farce I stood up and took the rap, I kept this shut" Tabby pointed to his mouth.

"Didn't anyone try to help you, I mean what about the professors?" I asked.

"But I was dealing man! I was guilty as hell because I was sellng acid and marijuana by the ton and I was earning a fortune"Tabby said.

"So why are you giving it away now" I asked.

"I told you didn't I? I believe that it would be a better world if people absorbed the knowledge that is in the sacred plants!" Tabby said earnestly.

Bruce sat not moving, immobile like a statue, he was the perfect model for a portrait. We had just had a pipe and both of us were stoned. I looked at the canvas and I put some more grey into Bruce's wavy thick locks, "No sign of balding" I thought.

"What are you doing now, apart from painting" I mean.

"I am taking corresponence courses in English Literature, French and German because there are teachers at A level for those subjects" I said feeling proud of myself.

"Yes but you ought to concentrate on your painting" Bruce said.

"I do Bruce, I spend most of the time painting and drawing" I assured Bruce.

"Charlie and Roy want you to do pictureof their daughters" Bruce said.

"Portraits are much more auhentic if they are painted from life" I remarked

"Well they can't get over to here. I mean I can go anywhere with my job in the library"

Bruce had been sitting for over an hour and I was beginning to tire. "Bruce I think that we will finish now as you have lost concentration" I said.

Bruce hoisted his lanky frame to a standing position and walked stiffly over to the easel and stood admiring the developing likeness of himself. "Mmm its coming on. Am I really that distinguished looking?"

"You have a natural nobilty Bruce and I have captured it. Just another one or two sittings and it will be finished. Come lets go up the pool for a swim" I suggested..

"Okay right I'll get my towel and trunks. You know what you have nearly got the breaststroke off. He good the PTI, isn't he he will probably be up the pool too" Bruce replied.

We walked out of the Roundhouse on our way to the wings and there was no screw on the door. They did not even check the roll in the Roundhouse I had noticed. The wall was quite low and devoid of all razor wire or other anti escape devices. I mean it was a doddle getting away with a couple of hours start. But as I lay down on a towel by the edge of the wall I thought "Where would I go to? I would be on the run for the rest of my life, on the other hand it was so easy, run to the wall and climb a rope. You would just have to get someone to throw over a rope. Kenny would do it I knew."

"Hear! Did you hear about Terry Matthews?"

"No what happened" I asked wanting to know.

"Well the last thing we heard that he was being carried across the yard by two hospital screws" said Bruce looking at me through his blue tinted spectacles and giggling."He thought that they were taking him down the pub. What a laugh!"

"They fucking tabbed me up and it was only because I had tripped a lot outside that I could control it. I mean it is a bit strong isn't it?" I said.

Bruce giggled "Well Terry went on a right bummer. But he wanted it anyway."

"Well I didn't and I heard that he was tabbed up" I complained.

"No he knew that he was going to be tabbed but did not know when. He was boasting that he could handle anything and he is all right on dope" Bruce said.

"Hear did you hear about the civvy screw that was tabbed up in the engineering shop? Bruce giggled again.

"No. What happened?" I asked.

"He started flexing his muscles and came over to the lads saying "Look at this" with his sleeve rolled up and flexing his bicep like Charles Atlas. After a while he started to cry like a little girl and the screw sent him off sick. Later they said that he had a nervous breakdown!" Bruce said then jumping up "Look I am going to do a few laps. I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Why don't you practice the breast stroke?" Bruce said standing up and putting his trainers back on. Then he was off his long legs carrying his tall frame and I noticed that he had incredible muscular definition and one could see every muscle in his body.

I walked towards the diving board and running along I jumped on the end and did a swallow dive into the pool then coming to the surface I did the breaststroke until the end. I was trying to use my muscles but I was not getting the timing right yet. I stood up at he end and tried another length of the small pool, just reaching the end before clutching desperately to the safety rail, puffing and panting, out of breath.

I opened the cupboard and took out the empty powder paint tin and slid down the label until the little hole showed, then pulling the refill out of a ball point I stuck the tube into the little hole and put a little bit of hash on top of the holes made in the tin lid and holding a lighter over the top I inhaled. "Tony would be here for his sitting soon" I thought. I smoked a couple of more pipes that were small enough to be consumed in one hit and not one bit of smoke escaped being sucked into my lungs. My easel was set up and I squeezed some oil paint out onto my palette.

As the THC coursed through my body it made me want to stretch and as I was alone in the Art Room I started to exercise and take pleasure in the feeling. "There is no pain if you are doing good to your body, push into the sensation of pain and it becomes pleasure" flashed through my mind. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the smiling face of Dunford looking through the glass panel of the door.

"Sit down and try to look at that painting over there on the wall. The walls were becoming covered now with my paintings and everytime I finished one I knocked two nails in the wall and hung the finished stretcher on them. The art room was becoming my territory because I spent more time in there than anywhere else and all my work hung there in a permanent exhibition.

Dunford sat on a chair facing my easel, his knees reached past mine by several inches and once again I felt dwarfed by his physical proportions and close proximity. I expect that everyone who ever met Tony would feel some of the emotions that I felt but despite his history of two seperate murders I felt no danger of him attacking me. In the gymnasium he could lift all the weight that one could get on the bar, he was a naturally strong super heavy weight. I felt that he was an incarnation of Nietsche's Ubermensch. I had read in the Old Testament about the two races on Earth, and about the aliens among us the Nephilim who were giants. I beleved that the Testaments illustrated that the Nephilim came from another planet.

"Can you turn your head slightly to the left Tony because you are wandering slightly" I said and he moved his head a little.

"When I get your proportions you can move around a little as long as you come back to the same spot" I said.

"All right" Tony answered answering with a lazy smile that spread across his features. He seemed eminently sensible and wise and was very polite and calm at all times. I dipped the brush into the palette and as the brush moved across the canvass and I communicated with Tony by transmitting and receiving. I realised that the image appearing on the canvas in front of me contained some of myself and the phrase "The observer is part of the observation" flashed through my brain. By the portraits from life that I had done I realised that the sitter comes under the power of the artist as one controlled their movements. Images of head restraints and devices flashed through my mind and I smiled to myself.

Stocker had told me that Tony's father had been speaking at a National Party meeting when a heckler started against his father's speech drowning out his words. Tony had been a steward and gone down into the crowd and tackled the heckler, killing him by accident in the process. It would be quite easy for Tony to kill someone I knew, it would be like an ordinary human with a rag doll. "Shaking someone too hard would be sufficint to break their necks" I thought. In prison Tony fell in love with another inmate and one day another prisoner began taunting him for being "a poof" and Tony dragged him into the cell and killed him as easy as wringing a chicken's neck. He was studying for an MA in philosophy now. Tony's subject matter had awakened an interest in philosophy in me too and I enjoyed reading some of his books and discussing various musings with Tony. The likeness was coming now and from this point I had to avoid altering the basic structure of what I had done. I like a sketchy loose feeling to a portrait one that captures the emotions as well as the exterior surface of the sitter.

"You can move around a bit now Tony, as long as you return to the same spot because I have captured your essence" I said.

"This emotion that you feel for another male do you think that it is love per se and unequivocally analogous to what I feel as a heterosexual for a woman?" I asked Tony. I was extremely interested in why Nature seemed to have programmed Dunford's genes to be destroyed so that his particular programme would not be around at the end of the voyage in Heaven on Earth.

"Yes I felt a deep love for certain men I have met in my life" Tony answered his eyes fixed on my flowerpiece hanging just in front of him.

"Would you kill to protect your loved one from evil? Even at the risk of your own life?" I asked.

"Yes" I would Tony said confirming what I already knew to be the answer.

"Was in Nature or Nurture, or a bit of both? That was the question" my mind was full of these thoughts now."

"What determines Nurture or Nature?" I put my thoughts to Tony.

"Nature predominantly and this has been proved by research into identical twins. You can get the book from Bruce it is in the library" Dunford then was silent his eyes fixed once again on the flowerpiece. I had on prescription several magazines, one being Artscribe, the others being the British Journal of Photography and Mens Magazines. I was reading about Conceptualism and artists that did not paint. Flowerpieces were "bourgeoise" and "decorative" another derogatory word in Artscribe.

"Do you like the flowerpiece Tony" I said.

"Yes it is beautiful and I see images within the actual overt subject matter" Tony said smiling as he described what he saw.

"Would you like a painting to hang in your cell?" I asked Tony.

"Yes very much so" he answered.

We walked back to the wing together Tony carrying the flowerpiece. It was tea time, the evening meal would be served soon and we would go into the dining hall to eat. We lined up for a meal Tony carrying the painting. We drew our meal and sat down at the table at which Stocker was already seated, Tony propping up the flowerpiece on an empty chair.

"All right Alan" I greeted him.

Alan looked up and smiled "Yes all right."

I saw several cons look at the painting as they passed and one said "Not bad!" and Tony smiled at me.

Most people liked photographic realism so it was easy to please them with the copy of a photo I had found but I had stopped copying now except for portraits from photos, that were always in demand!

Most people that drew or painted were copyists I knew that but there was another convict who painted from life in the wing. His work was full of an symbolism that he was not aware of! He did a still life of a bottle with two apples at its base that was obviously phallic but when I pointed this out to him he became annoyed. I realised from this experience that the symbolic images had been produced by sexual desire and were born of the subconscience.

That night we were all in the cell again the wedge banged under the door and the pipe went around and soon I had the feeling again that the cell had taken off into space and that we were hurtling through space. Every night now without a break for the past year I had been smoking strong hashish then we would recount our experiences to one another.

Hennie the Dutchman was speaking " We are called the Brotherhood of Eternal Light. I bought guns in Amsterdam lots of them and ammunition we would load up the boat and sail to Afganistan, there we would off load onto donkeys taking the arms to meet the Freedom Fighters and exchange for cannibis resin." He had florid features with a Germanic looking face with a slightly bulbous nose and thick brown hair which he had a habit of passing his fingers through, as he was doing now and a thick moustache which he stroked. "They confiscated my yacht" he said sadly.

"Well what the fuck do you expect with five tons of hash on board?" Bruce said derisively. "Bound for Great Britain to corrupt the law abiding British Public" cracked Bruce and everyone started laughing.

"The American black muslims only got five for using a government airplane when they were in the Airforce. I think that is a lot worse and they also had a lot more hash than I did" Hennie complained.

I played basketball with the black bomber crew, they were in the United States Basketball League and sometimes played Americans from British Airbases in the prison gym. I thought that their case and the fact that they had flown over from England to Spain where they loaded up with tons of cannabis amusing, "a good plot for a film" I thought.

"No come on Hennie! You are a gun runner and a hash dealer and you had been British you would have got a ten!" said Bruce.

The Visiting Hall was crowded and I looked around while waiting for my Mum and Dad to arrive. They had started to come now that Sandra was not coming to see me any more. I recognised faces from the portraits that I had painted and I spotted Hennie at a table with his parents and teenage blonde daughter. Yes I had achieved a good likeness and she was a typical Dutch girl with a snub nose, blue eyes and blonde hair. The Dutch it seemed were the tallest people in the world, or was it just Amsterdammers? I remembered when I was there in the Sixties and standing in a bar on the Leidseplein I had realised that everyone else in the bar towered above me. I studied Hennie's face and he was exactly how I saw him in the painting I was working on at the moment. Sometimes I did not recognise the subjects that I had painted from photos; the photo had not really been a good likeness. Girls liked to look as pretty as possible in their portraits, "Oh yes there was a girl that I was painting at the moment, she was the sister of the guy that did not want to go out! He said that he" was not ready yet and had evidently refused a discharge. His sister was turning around smiling at me and, the prisoner was waving and his mother too" I waved back stroking my beard and smiled. I knew that prison had given me a unique insight as what it was like to be a painter before the invention of photography in around circa 1860. Photography was not allowed in the inside of the prison and was prohibited under the Official Secrets Act. Anyone that wanted a likeness of there self came to me and I was already getting commissions from those outside. If I had wanted "I could have built a camera obscura and captured still lives photographically but I was now loosening up, I knew, and because my favourite painters were the French Impressionists They were around about the same time as photography began to challenge the painters .I often found that sketching in oil often produced the "accident" that resulted from the act of painting per se." the thoughtd were going through my head. I was tranced out and had just had a few pipes of hash before going on the visit. Here they were just entering the large visiting hall which was about fifty times larger than the one in Parkhurst. Maidstone was a much easier place than Parkhurst. "There are prisons and prisons and this was a very easy one as prisons went.

I got up to greet my Mum and Dad and gave my Mum a cuddle and a big kiss on the cheek” Hello Mum" I said.

Then I shook hands with and embraced my Father.

"Hello Dad. All right “I asked.

"My Dad smiled his false teeth too even and white. I'll get some snacks up at the bar. We have brought you some things" he said smiling then turning on his heel he walked up to the WRVS canteen and joined the queue of visitors queuing to by sweets, chocolates, cakes, crisps and sandwiches and the ubiquitous cups of tea served out by retired, genteel, ladies who sometimes told pushy visitors that they were volunteers.

"How have you been? You look very skinny Michael and your face is drawn in" said my Mum a look of concern on her face. I noticed that she wore the matched Amethyst and Diamond earrings that I had bought from Brian Goldstein.

"Your earrings look nice Mum. Mum I am eleven and a half, middleweight and fit as a fiddle. I am swimming, weightlifting and starting to run again" I said.

"Do they feed you properly?

"Yes Mum I eat really good food and I buy extras in the canteen and get other stuff from the Officer's Mess as well. No Mum I have never been so fit in my life" I said smiling.

My Mum looked at me the concerned look still on her face "Well I think your face should be a bit fatter" she said.

"He looks fit to me” said my Dad putting a tray loaded with chocolate, biscuits and tea on the plastic topped table and sitting down on a tubular metal chair with curved plywood seat and back. The metals tubes were painted a leaf green that contrasted with the brown wood. They were the same chairs that we had in the Roundhouse.

My Dad took a beaker of orange juice off the tray and my Mum opened her handbag and pulling out a half bottle of vodka she surreptitiously poured some into it and handed it to me "Here you are Michael" she said.

I swallowed some of the vodka and orange and it warmed my throat as I consumed it. I chose vodka because it was said not to smell. My Dad was drinking some too and suddenly he turned to me.

"Mickey I have got to stop the business" he said.

I looked at him incredulous for a second "What after I kept schtum, I have got a licence" I exclaimed in protest.

"There is a big corruption thing going on and I think that everything is stopping for a bit until it all blows over. Jimmy Humphreys has grassed up Commander Drury, you know you met him once Ken?"

I remembered passing a pipe smoking detective in Scotland Yard and knew that was him. "Only for a minute" I replied. I remembered Drury saying "Hell Michael. Everything all right" and that had been it. "Fucking grass. See those old squares trusted him! What a laugh, a cardboard gangster. I knocked out his old man and he sent Nosher Powell round to seek me out. What a fucking coward" I said angrily. "Nosher Powell!”

"Oh sorry Mum" I said seeing her reaction when I swore. She did not like swearing.

"Look Dad they can't just tell you to stop just like that" I said.

"Everyone going to pretend that it is all cleaned up, lots of publicity in the papers then after a few years it will all come back, bigger than ever. Moody is nicked and so is Alton and dozens of other officers are under suspension" my Dad said.

My brain took in the situation and I said "Well if the shops close then you can run a mailing list again. I have got thousands of names and if the shops are not open you will still be earning. Look I'll design a brochure and give it to you on the next visit."

Back in my cell I thought of the rat like Humphreys and wondered how a person like Drury could have become so friendly with him. Sandra knew Rusty the stripper, his wife. A picture of Humphries strutting through Walkers Court came into my mind. It was a wonder that Humphries was still alive and walking around obviously those "above" had decided that he should stay alive and allowed to give evidence against Scotland Yard officers. I suspected that a big power struggle was going on for the highly lucrative porn trade. It was going to be re organised but I knew that whatever happened that I would always be able to make a good living from it. I liked doing it because it was creative and sexual and what most guys would like to do if we knew the truth. I had read in Playboy that it was a male’s most common fantasy. I flicked through glossy magazines looking at the airbrushed models. It did not really turn me on but the pictures were pleasant to look at and I liked to read some of the stories, articles and letters in the magazine. Hugh Hefner was a politically active entrepreneur whose political philosophy I admired and he was not afraid to print letters from prisoners or to highlight injustices in the legal system.

I picked up another magazine and looked through it. I knew the guy who published it Ben Holloway and had sold him stories and illustrations in the past. He liked SM and spanking themes and his publications required a high degree of literacy and quality. His books were professionally printed and were of the highest quality the type that serious collectors of erotica purchased. I started to read one of the spanking stories and my cock started to get hard. I wanted to wank and I wanted a smoke. I got out of bed and sprinkled some talcum powder around the cell door then getting out my pipe I had several pipes holding in the smoke until my lungs were bursting, pushing down my chin onto my upper sternum, locking in the pungent mixture of smoke and air before letting it out in one long exhalation, which because of the time that I had held it in was practically colourless.

I turned the pages of the magazine and came to a story which I had written. I looked at my name printed at the top of the page. The illustration I had done of the girl her white knickers pulled down just to the bottom of her vaginal slit, her knickers folded down like a tight band around her thighs, constricting her in bondage, in the background stood a male gym slipper in his hand. Spanked was based on a true experience, I knew because I had written it. Sometimes I wrote stories for pleasure with illustrations and then gave them to Rita and Doreen to read before selling them to Ben Holloway from Acton.

The screw was coming around turning off the lights. "Flick" the spy hole went up and an eye peered through then turned off the light a the ticking noise as the spy hole flap swung until it reached the bottom and was still.

I remember writing about the time Rita and Doreen had told me about the time that they had let their driving instructor spank them.

Rita turned to me her swollen bee’s stung lips parting in a wide smile that showed her perfect large healthy teeth. She had worn a brace when she was younger. He pulled down our knickers and spanked our bums" she said putting her hand up to her lips and giggling along with her friend Doreen. They had just returned from playing tennis and were showing lots of thigh and giving me flashes of their white cotton knickers.

I knew that they wanted me to spank them. "Dirty old pervert. You did not suck him off after or let him fuck you?" I said giving both of them a look that aid that I was sexually excited and wanted sex.

Rita's parents bedroom was large an airy and both girls stood by the bed. "Pull up your skirts. I am going to give you a good spanking, both of you, for letting a dirty old man spank and fondle your buttocks. Now pull your knickers down half way and bend over on that bed." I said.

Both Rita and Doreen were blonde and beautiful and my cock was so hard I could hardly release it from my tight jeans. I looked at the two ivory gleaming orbs of flesh and began running my hands over them both and doing so could feel the responsive trembles. Looking at their swollen vaginal lips I could see that they were both wet and shiny with love juice. I raised my hand a brought it down upon Rita's flawless, healthy looking buttocks and saw the red imprint quickly turning the white to pink. Then I slapped Doreen pushing down her waist so that I could see her cunt. I smacked her around her anus and cunt, and then pushed my finger into the wetness. I spanked Rita with the other hand then said to Doreen. “I am going to fuck you now" I said.

I pushed my rigid cock into Doreen and she gasped with pleasure. "Yes fuck me hard you dirty bastard" then pushed herself hard back against my cock. I fucked Doreen hard for ten minutes until she was red in the face and ready to come then I pulled out and pushed my cock still wet from Doreen and began fucking her while pushing five fingers into Doreen's cunt, keeping her writhing against my fingers until Rita started to writhe in orgasm.

"Get up both of you and kneel on the floor" I said and they looked at my big swollen cock as they got up. "Get all your clothes off, except your shoes and socks" I ordered and as thy undressed I noticed that their buttocks were red.

I looked down at the naked girls who both had swollen firm breasts of ample dimensions and said "Hold up your tits. Now suck my big dick" Then I fucked their mouths, pulling my cock out with a popping noise and shoving it into the others, going from one to the other, holding their heads in between my hands, fucking their mouth's hard until I shot my semen in long spurts all over their smiling faces and breasts offered up in worship of

the phallus. This episode had inspired me to write Spanked and now a copy of it lay beside me on a chair as I wanked and felt myself come all over my stomach as I replayed the scene in my brain.

I always liked writing stories" I thought as I lay their in the dark.

The Governor was walking around the small garden next to the Roundhouse. I went over to him "Good Morning Sir! Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes it is" said the Governor smiling.

Tabby had told me that he was a Marxist and that is why Maidstone was a holiday camp. He believed in co operation to achieve great things on Earth and not competition. Well it certainly seemed to be working.

I walked over to him and smiling addressed him. "Sir I am a painter and am on full time education in the Roundhouse. I want to take a degree in Fine Art but I am told that it is not allowed and that only academic subjects can be taken. I have fourteen GCEs now four at A level, French, German, English Literature and Art. I have got some of my work in the Roundhouse Art Room if you would care to see them."

The governor walked around the Art room like a spectator at a Private Viewing "Mmm yes. I think that you do have great talent but one has to get official approval from the Home Office. First of all come and see me on application and apply for a Petition to the Home Secretay. It has all got to be official you see."

I waited outside with other prisoners who had made an application to see the governorI walked into the governor's office when the Chief called out my name "Muldoon"

I stood in front of the Governor's desk "I would like to Petition the Home Secetary" I said to the Governor,

The Chief looked at me in surprise because petitions to the Home Secretary were rare. He cleared his throat with a rasping sound that was a comment not needing words.

"Yes permission granted. The landing officer will give you the petition later this evening" the Governor said laying down his pen.

A couple of months later

Mrs Keen called me into her office in the Roundhouse "Muldoon. I have a letter here from the Home Secretary. It is about your petition to be allowed to take a BA Fine Art degree. What he says is yes as long as the local art college send in their Head of Painting to look at your work and he approves it."

I thought "I hope he is not one of these guys who were saying that the idea was more important than skill in producing an object such as a painting. "Down in the Gallery in London town, an artist does a painting showing nothing at all, in the galleries down in London Town" the Dire Straights lyrics echoed through my brain.

The Head of painting was coming today and was excited.

"Muldoon" it was Mrs Keen calling me from the office. "Two lecturers from Maidstone College have arrived at the gate and they have just rung me up saying should they let in Mr Kaine because he is dressed like a hippy!"They are coming over."

Here they were now walking down the passage towards the Art Room and pushing open the door. One guy had a bald head on top but with long hair down to shoulders, wearing baggy shorts held up with a belt with a large brass buckle on the front saying "Super Kaine" and wearing Jesus type sandals held out his hand. His hand was limp and submissive and if I was a brute I would have crushed it. Some men try to do this shake your hand and crush it if your reactions are not quick enough. I gave Super Kaine's hand a soft squeezing shake.

Super Kane looked at me "I am Super Kaine head of Painting at Maidstone and this is John Bradford a Senior Lecturer.

Bradford shook hands but exerted some pressure "Pleased to meet you" he said.

"Please call me Michael" I said to both of them trying to be polite and civilised not a dangerous killer that my conviction for murder had branded me. They knew about my conviction that was for sure. "No wonder the NF screw on the gate had freaked out over Super Kaine because he was the stereo type of the eccentric artist and to them "a hippy" and could not be the Principal of a college. I smiled to myself as they both started to study my work. Bradford dressed like most guys of the Seventie, jeans and a jumper. They both stopped in front of a full length portrait of a prisoner. I did not know him as Mrs Keen had arranged for models to be sent over to me in the Art Room. When I had sat for me I picked up some heavy vibes and this had elongated his body, stretching his long acne scarred,bony face. He had a plastic prison tea mug on the table in front of him and a tobacco tin. I had used an acid green colour in the background. I knew that it was a powerful original work.

They looked at each other and smiled then turning to me Super Kaine said "Yes we like your work Michael and I shall say yes" he said smiling his red face with the eccentric hair sticking out was beaming.

I was filled with joy and I spontaneously hugged Super Kaine and pumped his hand.

They came back a few days later with rolls of canvas a huge plastic containers of the new acrylic paint as well as plenty of oils and now that I was on a degree course in Fine Art I could paint all day long although I was now reading French and German to improve my grasp of these languages. I was reading Les Miserables by Victor Hugo in French and enjoying it. I discovered that Hugo was multi disiciplinary and a visual artist as well. Every week day now was the same I came to the Art Room had a smoke of hash and then painted. Back in my cell I had hung paintings on the wall and sat engaging with them in long mediational sessions where the paintings throbbed and pulsed with energy and drew me into them.

I read about the Club de Haschishens in 19th century Paris and studied the paintings and drawings of the members in the large hardback art books on the History of Art that the college had delivered. Now that I had decided to take a degree I had access to all the books I wanted now from Maidstone Art College as well as all the art materials that I could possibly need. I started to make some large paintings as the college had sent me in, what seemed to me, some really big stretchers, much bigger than the usual size that I had used in the past.

Acrylic was a water based medium and the Spectrum Colours were pure pigment, mixer with PVA and Base one could achieve any effect or surface desired. At first I used the acrylics on an easel but the big ones would not fit, and sometimes the liquid paint ran down the canvas so I started painting on the floor using very liquid paint. I was painting three or canvases at once in sets and I was prolific. I handed them out on visits to my parents who were storing them the room that they had always kept for me even after I had left home.

Life was good and I was stoned all the time. Every full moon a tab of 300 to 400 grams of LSD and hash every day. Alan and I had started to smoke some hash before breakfast now because we liked to be in an enlightened state of mind as soon as we had to mix with the general prison population. It was heavy out that we knew with a lot of heavy guys . Alan would make up a pipe out of a sheet of paper with a small piece of aluminium foil on which we smoked four five pipes of Black Indian hash, one smoking while the other kept watch.

I stood behind the door inhaling the pungent smoke, holding the gas lighter on the small piece of hash until it glowed red and was consumed. "Right, Ready"I said and we emerged from Alan's cell into the wing then downstairs to the dining hall to eat our breakfast.

"Alan why don't you start painting" I said as I spooned beans into my mouth and cut off a bit of sausage and sipped at the pint mug of tea. "I'll give you some materials."

Plender looked at me and said "Why do you always tell people that you have four A s when you have only got two?"

I stared at him in surprise as I rembered Mrs Keen saying something to me about my qualifications which I did not understand at the time. "I have got four A level passes" I said squeezing the brushes and metal palette knife I held in my hand.

Suddenly Plender's face assumed a horrified expression and I realised that he was loking at the palette knife which to him could look as if the palette knife was hidden in between the brushes. Classical paranoia symptoms which I recognised from cannabisespecially as a novice puffer. The difference being that while on cannabis I always knew that danger was only a high state of alert and warning one what could happen by imagery. The world became the future the past and the present experienced simultaneously. It was the highest survival state I knew that but the difference here was that Plender was paranoid because he was visualising me stabbing him to death over a trivial matter such as qualifications and he was not on anything except a cup of Nescafe.

I walked away from him and went staright up to Mrs Keen's office and tapped on the door.

"Come in " said Mrs Keen friendly maternal voice tinged with a slight Scottish accent.

"Mrs Keen Mr Plender is under the impression that I am lying about having four passes at A level" I said looking at her for support.

"Yes I am glad that you mention it because others have mentioned it too, becauses it says two on your record" Mrs Keen said.

I blushed with embarrassment as the oblique remarks people had made to me in the past, teachers and lecturers from the Art College must have all thought that I was a liar. I realised I was lucky to get into Maidstone Art College.

"We will go over to the reception, open the safe and get a copy of your A level Certificates" said Mrs Keen.

As she spoke I saw that a clerk who worked for Mrs Keen looking uncomfortable and I realised that it was him who had made a mistake in my records.

The safe was opened and the certificates taken out. Here they were four A level passes! It was great. I confronted Plender and I said to him "What chance have I got of convincing any middle class guy like you that I am not a dangerous killer who would stab you to death over any little thing?" I realised what a good job the News of the World had done in demonising me.

Plender looked shamefaced and said "Forgive me.

Mrs Keen was retiring and became known as Mrs Keen MBE as she was given the honour. I was very pleased for her as she had helped me so much but I wondered who would run the Roundhose now.

continued. January 21, 2008

Tony Cuenco walked out of his cell babbling incoherently. I halted in my tracks on my way up to the end cell on the right where the chaps were meeting this evening. I halted because Tony had smashed one of the big glass mirrors in half and was holding one half in two hands in front of him then suddenly he slashed his throat with the sharp jagged edge. A jet of crimson blood splattered the passage wall running down it in little rivulets while Tony slid to the floor unconscious then the alarm bells started ringing and the excited shouts of prisoners "It is Cuenco Guv, he has slashed his throat."

A stretcher arrived with a white jacketed screw from the hospital, a pressure pad was applied then a torniquet and Tony wounded by himself was carried over to the hospital. A mirror could kill you but the neck is tough and sinewy and Tony was lucky. I walked up to the end cell and the chaps were all there talking excitedly about the Cuenco attempted suicide.

A co out of the Officers mess Nobby was saying "If he really wanted to top himself, why come outside in the passage?"

"It certainly looked like a real attempt to kill and not just a cry for help to me" I said.

"No, if he had come over to the mess me I could have lent him a proper knife a real sharp one" Nobby said with an impish grin on his face. He kept the chaps supplied with cuts of steak from the officers mess and he was paid with tobacco and hash.

Everyone laughed but really it had been shocking because another prisoner had cracked up and tried to top himself. He was living in the same environment as us but we had overcome our predicaments to a large extent and our association and smoking marijuana played an important part in coping I thought.

The pipemaker was banging the wedge under the door as we all settled down sitting on the floor, chairs or bed. I liked to sit on Franky's bed with my back against the wall with my legs folded, not in a full Lotus because it made my joints ache but in a half Lotus, keeping my back straight and my hands on my knees. I would close my eyes and meditate like this in my cell entering inner space instead of like now when we would talk and laugh together with a red light on.

Danny the Rasta was in the cell tonight but he did not come every night like me and the other guys but just now and again. For him the plant was sacred and he smoked it reverently, sitting in a full Lotus on the floor the exhaled smoke coming from his nose in two plumes which then dissolved and filled the room with cannabis smoke.One would get stoned by just being in this cell and breathing. The pipe maker handed me the loaded pipe now and I applied the lighter to it and first exhaling then applying the flame to the small piece of black hash on the pipe until it turned into a cinder while inhaling all the smoke and keeping it in my lungs then releasing it slowly out through my nostrils.

"So you reckon that he was really going to top himself? " Frank Samways said.

"Oh don't lets talk about suicide all fucking night. None of us is going to top himself" Bruce said.

Durkheim's theory of suicide went through my head "Do you now that as many people kill themselves when they become rich as when they become poor!" I said.

Everyone started to laugh and then Stocker said "I'm not having that"

Sims joined in with "That's a right load of old bollocks" and then started to laugh. "No I'm not having that , a right load of bollocks" he repeated.

"Durkheim's Theory of Suicide. Yes I have read it and that is what it says" confirmed Dunford.

"But why is a geezer who gets a load of dosh going to top himself" asked Tuttle.

"It is to do with expectations. Because the best things in life are free, or should be and money does not bring love, or happiness which are not material but emotions. It is the realisation that the corollary of suddenly acquiring wealth is not happiness and it is this that invites suicide" I said.

"Speak proper English Mickey, it's like you swallowed a fucking dictionary" the Dutch man said.

"Sorry Hennie" I said but I noticed that no one else was saying that they did not know what corollary meant and I knew that the uneducated were impressed by the use of "long words" which they did not understand. The only other person that understood what corollary meant was Dunford. The same went for books like Das Kapital where I struggled to to understand "Dialectical Materialism" and realised that a working class person of the nineteenth century would not have had a clue, then I discovered that hypothisis, anthisisis and synthesis had their roots in Ancient Greece, who was it now? Aristotle Plato and Socrates came to my mind.

"Well what the fuck do you mean Englishman?" joked Hennie smilng.

"He means that suddenly acquiring wealth does not immediately solves one worldly problems." Dunford explained.

"Yes like the Shah of Persia running around the world with a million dollars in a suitcase to find a cure for cancer" I said.

"Hear! can't we talk about something else than suicide and things. It's freaking me out" Tuttle complained.

The pipe had come around again and I smoked it even though I was already starting to trip out on THC and I had the sensation again that the cell was taking off.

The bell was ringing signalling that association and it was time to go back to our cells and get locked up for the night.

Back in my cell images of Cuenco slashing his neck kept entering my mind and I fell into a fitful sleep. Suddenly I awoke in the middle of the night, it was freezing cold, was paralysed while feeling a huge serpent lying on top of me. I was terrified and unable to move as it slowered slithered over me and across my face. Then it was gone and I was wide awake and afraid.

The teacher was writing on the board "Engels" and then " Workers of the World throw off your chains and Unite." "This a simple slogan that people understand and can remember" he was saying. It seemed to me from my experiences so far all teachers and teachings were left wing. Really I had been apolitical in the Sixties but if I had voted I would have voted Conservative like my Father always did. What I liked about the Left was its romantic attachment to revolution and I knew that I wanted a revolution more than anything else so I started to read about Marx, Lenin, Bakunin and Trotsky and Che Guavera. I was like a student at University just discovering an exciting new game of life. With political struggle one could change the society that you did not like into the society that you did like. A communist was a rebel against the old class system and the more I read the more the more my sympathies moved to the left.

The years were rolling by now and there was a new prison wing being built in the grounds of Maidstone and the grapevine said that we were all being moved into it.

"Yes this wing is going to be a nonse's wing" Alan said.

This proved true and one day we moved into the new wing in one big exodus carring our few worldly possessions in pillow cases or on food trolleys. The New Wing" as it would become known to prisoners was built in the traditional way with open landings with five floors. The old wing Medway was different with "Spurs" instead of landings. Stocker and I found cells near one another or the fi